


DC6: The Wall

by WichitaRed



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: The Wall; have you ever hit it before?  Kid feels like he has.Destiny’s Cycle (DC) follows the Outlaw days.. what does Destiny have in store. Each month, I get a challenge, and then the cycle continues. You can follow KC, HH, & the gang through their adventures. DC does link together, but some tales stand on their own. Yet, its building its own world history, inside jokes, characters, places, etc. I hope you enjoy DC. Feedback WELCOMED!





	DC6: The Wall

“The Wall”

 

 

 

Heyes held his breath, as he did each time his cousin was pushed to the crux. It was always over in a matter of seconds, but he was fully aware in those seconds his life could be altered forever. When a flat stab of flame reached for Billy, Heyes released his pent up air; cognizant all would remain as it was.

Even as Billy was bucking backwards, dirt kicking from beneath his boot heels, Heyes took a step toward his partner. But, then he became aware that his chest was stinging like a firebrand had landed on him and, also, there was something warm trickling down his skin. Looking down, he could not comprehend the redness on his shirt front. His brow furrowed, thinking to ask his partner, he looked up. But, Curry’s face was blank and unusually white in Delano’s gaudy, smoky gaslights.

It came to Heyes the stars above were spinning out of control. Then he hit the ground. All he could see were the stars. But even as they settled into place, they faded before a black, confusing darkness.

‘What is happening?’ Heyes thought, feeling like he was swimming through dark, cold… no, not cold… but frigid water. ‘Where am I?’ He tried to swallow, but his throat was unbearably tight, like he was drowning. ‘I can’t be!’ He knew this because he could smell dirt, stale sweat, and the sickish sweetness of blood.

He wanted to see, to move, to speak out. Above all else, to know what was happening, and the not knowing had started fear building in him, wrapping him tight like a heavy blanket. As it wrapped tighter, he saw a flicker of light. Struggling toward it, he coughed and heard a gurgling sound. Then suddenly as the stars had left him earlier, he was awake and out of the darkness.

His eyes felt more open than they ever had in his life and all he could see was a room he did not know. Worse, he still felt like he was drowning. And, there was so much pain. ‘Never hurt like this before,’ he thought and through clenched teeth, he gritted out, “Kid?”

His cousin, Kid Curry appeared over him. But, the blue eyes that looked down on him were not the self-assured eyes, Heyes was used to seeing. They were wide, frantic, and something turned over in Heyes leaving him feeling cold and deeply afraid.

“Han… I’m here with _the doctor_ … you hear me, Han.”

I wanted to answer him, but my chest it was hurting now and my throat felt like the cracks of a desert floor.

Kid placed his hand on my shoulder, “your lung is deflated.”

Hearing this, I suppose set me off, I started gasping in dry, gurgling heaves, ‘what did he mean my lung was deflated?’

A gravely, old voice, from somewhere snapped, “Settle him the hell down. He has his blood pumping out of him like water spewing from a gorge in spring rain.”

“Look at me.”

I felt him grab my chin. I could feel his hand, but not myself moving. Then again, I was trying to get my own arms to listen to me. I wanted them to reach up and rub the burn from my chest, but they wouldn’t listen.

My cousin and his worried eyes, leaned in closer. But then, he turned his head away. Following his movement, I saw, he was looking to the Doctor. I could see the man, too. Well, I could see the man’s grizzled, white hair standing out at all angles in the golden, lamp light. Then Kid was leaning closer to me, I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear.

“Come on, Heyes, you gotta simmer down. You aren’t doing yourself no good. Think on the bank heist you been planning, just drift off, like you do.”

Through the years, he has chewed on me, time and again, about me dropping too deep into my thoughts. Usually he starts off, with going on about not knowing how I’d manage to stay alive without him, since whenever it suited me, I tended to pay no notice to the world around me. Every time, he gets on this train, I inform him, I was the one who kept him alive and didn’t know what he was talking about. Truth was I’d always known what he was talking about. His being there, his dependability, steadiness, alertness, allowed me to let my mind wander and that was what he wanted out of me now. But, I couldn’t the pain was keeping me here.

“This sides clean, put your hand on this,” the Doctor commanded.

Then, I felt fingertips about the edges of a thick, bandage. I knew Kid was not trying to hurt me, but the pressure was agony.

“Let’s get him on his side.”

When they finished, I was nose to nose with Kid. There were lines grooved in his face, somehow, they seemed to match the way I felt. I was in bad shape, no one needed to tell me.

From behind me, I heard the Doctor, grunt, “slug went through. He’s a lucky man.”

The thing was, there were frothy bubbles in my mouth and the taste of blood on my tongue, I wasn’t feeling so lucky, and the room was darkening. Yet, I knew it wasn’t the room, it was my vision.

In my ear, I heard, “Heyes, don’t give up on me. Don’t you do it!”

I tried to say, “I’m not.” But, instead of words, it was that gurgling sound and I was coughing again. Each cough allowed the pain to tear at me, burning me from the inside out. I tried to focus on Kid, but he was fading from me.  

“Han!”

“Let ‘em be. He passing out is for the best. Ain’t much that hurts more than a deflated lung.” The doctor stated, while digging in my back. Last, I heard, was him muttering, “So, I been told.”

Next, I woke; the room was bathed in the gentle, gray light of dawn. I could breathe, not large breaths, but, I didn’t feel like I was drowning. Turning my head, I found Kid standing at the window. His shoulders were slumped and it came to me, he was leaning his forehead against the glass. “Hey.”

He spun at my voice, “Heyes.” His smile was a thing to behold, like a child at Christmas, no like a man who has seen a beautiful woman---

“You made it!!”

No, I knew then what that smile was. It was the smile of seeing a person you love survive. I returned the largest one I could muster, “I step in front of a stampede, I was unaware of?”

“You go on and joke, I’ve been praying all night.”

“You… praying?”

His lips pulled tight. I could see, I had hit a nerve and considering his lack of sleep, and how I would feel if he was lying here, I knew, I should let up. Quirking him another grin, I said, “got shot, didn’t I.”

“That boy pulled the trigger as he went down. Here, I didn’t want to kill ‘em and he nearly did you in.”

“What’s the Doc say?”

“If you made it through the night, and infection doesn’t get you, then you’ll be ready to get out of that bed in eight weeks or so.”

“Eight weeks…?!”

“Afraid so.”

I knew, I should be feeling lucky, even gracious, but eight weeks. I sighed, “Suppose, I could write my memoirs.”

Pulling a ladderback chair closer to me, Kid tilted his head, “your what? Nevermind, we got bigger problems.”

“Bigger than me shot through the lung?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, swinging straddle onto the chair. “Used up about all our money for this room and paying the Doctor.” He dropped his chin on the chair’s back, looking sheepishly over at me. “I even had to sell your pistol to have enough.”

A lot of thoughts came to my mind on the subject of him selling my pistol, but I chose to keep them inside. Because, I knew every one of them would start an argument.

 

\------ASJ-----------ASJ-----------ASJ-----------ASJ-----

 

“So, you get the job?”

“I went to the address you found in the paper.”

“And?”

“That blame fool is hiring men to build a brick wall, all the way, around his land.”

“Why does it sound like you didn’t take the job?”

“Cause, you know I didn’t. Building a brick wall would be awfully hard on a man’s back. I’ll find something on my own tomorrow.”

As the days drug by, Kid would return each night with my dinner, a Wichita Eagle newspaper, and tales of what he had done for work or, anything else while out. But, when he arrived this night, he came dragging in as if he had been on a ten mile forced march. Setting my book down, I grinned at him, “Good seeing you not covered in paint.”

Kid grinned back, “yeah, never would of took that job, if I had known, how many walls Mrs. Murdock was going to have me do. Swear, my shoulder is never going to be the same.”

“So, what you do today.” I asked, taking my dinner plate and seeing he had swung by the Chinese district, just for me, I smiled larger.

“Heard tell, Mr. Jabara was hiring men to stock his mercantile. It’s in a big, new building on the other side of the river.” He answered, tossing himself on his bed with a groan. “Spent better part of the day, climbing up and down a ladder, stocking every shelf along the east wall.”

“You finish up?”

“No.” Curry growled, rolling on his side with a frown for me. “I still have the west wall tomorrow, then I will have to find another job.”

Seemed to me, Kid was having a terrible time finding a job that agreed with him. Before he left each morning, he’d repeat how ready he was to return to Wyoming and the easy pickings there. But, at least, he wasn’t having to stay flat on his back. Truth was his trials sounded wonderful compared to spending another day staring at these four walls. So, each evening, when the sun had the shadows growing long, I found myself eagerly awaiting his arrival and having him to talk with. Only so much, a man can discuss with his self. It got to the point, the sound of his key hitting the lock, perked me right up whether I was asleep or not.

At the sound of the key, I was ready for him, soon as he opened the door, “sure is good to see you. Tell me everything you have seen.”

“Don’t start in on me, Heyes. I been talked at all I need.”

“What?”

“I took a job with Mr. O’Lawery.” He stated dryly, setting my dinner plate down beside me. “He’s building a house. We framed walls today and, Heyes, I don’t think he ever stopped running on. Not once.”

“You going to stick with this one?”

“Not sure.” I watched him toe his boots off.

“Hmm?”

Next, his clothes started hitting the floor, “I mean, he’s paying good. Just don’t know if I will make it through all his jabbering.”

“Oh!” I picked up my fork, moving the corn around on my plate. “You think you're going come back, wanting silence every night?”

My cousin rubbed a hand across his face, “might.”

“Well, Kid, way I see it, I’m not sure building a house, suits you.”

Dropping his hand enough to peer at me, he shook his head, and then plopped onto his bed. “You sure it’s 'cause it don’t suit me or, ‘cause I’ve heard enough talking already with Mr. O’Lawrey?”

What could I say, he knows me.

“You look like a cat licking cream, stop smilin’ at me that way.”

“You going to find a different job?”

“Ain’t decided, eat your dinner, and let me be. “

I looked at my plate and back at him. He was tucking his arm up under his head, which meant he was ready for sleep. I sighed, thinking, ‘great, only three more weeks.’

 

 

 

 


End file.
